Haeres Genitus: The Begotten Heir
by little miss moonlight
Summary: After Harry and Ron are forced to escape Malfoy Manor without Hermione, she finds herself with a surprising cell mate: Draco Malfoy. Draco knows his life is forfeit, but is unwilling to die as the last Malfoy heir. Using the darkest of old magiks, he uses his life force to make sure his bloodline continues, no matter what. After all, a half-blood Malfoy was better then no Malfoy...
1. Chapter 1

Haeres Genitus: The Begotten Heir

Chapter One: Blood Loss Was A Bitch

"Fetch Draco."

Hermione impulsively shivered as the words hissed out of Bellatrix Lestrange's cruel mouth. It was all she could do to not break down sobbing as her captor gripped her arm tighter and the new reality of their situation set in. In a matter of hours, she went from hunting horcruxes with her best friends on the run from Death Eaters to being hunted down like animals and brought to the devil's lair of Malfoy Manor. In a last ditch effort to save their lives, Hermione had hastily cast a stinging hex at Harry to disguise his famous face and gave false names. Too little, too late it seemed, since Draco actually _knew _what they looked like and wouldn't hesitate to expose the lie.

Whatever she was thinking next flew out of her head as a smug Wormtail ('_Why couldn't that man just DIE already', she thought) _came into view dragging by wand point a rather unwilling tall pile of rags. Then, she saw an unmistakable head of white blonde hair, although dulled from grime and dirt and she felt her mouth drop in shock. _That's not possible…that couldn't be Malfoy?_ Yet, standing in front of them now, it was undeniable that luck had gone horrible wrong for the once resplendent Malfoy heir. He was much thinner then she could remember seeing him, even though he had lost weight last year with the stress of trying to fix the vanishing cabinet that unleashed his fellow Death Eaters into the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Now, he was practically gaunt, the deep smudges of sleepless nights under his surprisingly sharp grey eyes.

"Is it him? Is it Harry Potter?" the black-hearted witch he called Aunt asked, sneering at Draco. Hermione noted Bellatrix seemed disgusted she had to speak to Draco, let alone require his assistance. Draco met her sneer with an arrogant tilt of his head as he coolly eyed the three Gryffindors in front of him. "What's wrong with his face?" he gestured to Harry with shackled hands. Bellatrix looked questioningly to the Snatcher restraining Harry and the man shrugged his shoulders. The older witch smirked and pointed her wand to Hermione. "Looks like he ran into a little Stinging Hex….was it you, dearie? Give me her wand," she ordered the Snatcher that held onto Hermione's wand and then tapped her own dark oak wand to the tip. Hermione cringed when it revealed the last spell she used was indeed a stinging hex. Bellatrix cackled as she tossed the wand back to their captors.

"Got you! Clever for a Mudbl-WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!" she shrieked as she spotted Fenrir Greyback with a rather ornate sword strapped to his belt. The were-man looked confused for a moment before answering. "Found it in the girls' stuff. Reckon it's mine now," he patted the hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor fondly. In a matter of seconds, the fierce witch was waving her wand around and the sword flew to her and all the Snatchers were expelled from the manor in a less then friendly manner. "GET THE GOBLIN!" she screamed at Wormtail, who shriveled pathetically under the woman's command, and scurried back to the dungeons without Draco.

"I think I'm going to have a little chat with this one first, girl to girl," she rasped to Hermione. The younger witch felt her heart stop. This was it, she was going to die in this house of horrors. She was dimly aware of Ron and Harry being taken away to the dungeons as they shouted for Hermione, screaming to take her place and be tortured instead. Oddly, Draco looked pensively at her but kept silent, his brows stitched together in a frown. Before she could think about it, the muggleborn felt the claws of the Lestrange witch dig into her arm and threw her roughly on the ground.

"Where did you get that sword?"

Hermione bit her lip, staying silent glaring daringly into the black madness of the older witch's eyes. A swift kick to her side knocked the breath from her lips. "Where. Did. You. Get. The. Sword," she was asked again, a kick accompanying each word. Still, she knew to keep silent. She would never tell this vile woman anything, so help her. Wormtail finally scurried back with another shackled prisoner, a goblin she recognized as Griphook from Gringotts. Bellatrix thrust the sword under his nose. "Is it real?" she asked, allowing him to hold it for further inspection. Despite the situation, she almost smirked when Griphook stared up at the much taller witch and sighed huffily. '_You didn't say the magic word….'_

After a short time and much fiddling around with the item, the goblin declared it made from goblin steel and most likely the real Sword of Gryffindor. Hermione watched Bellatrix's face fly into a rage. "How did you get it?! That is supposed to be in my vault! HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY VAULT?!" she bellowed, pointing her wand at the petite witch at her feet before casting a silent Crucio. Any brief amusement the Gryffindor had fled and all that was left behind was mind numbing pain. She couldn't help the screams that left her throat as she thrashed wildly on the ground, her veins flowed with acid and her nerves set on fire. She didn't know how long this went on, time became irrelevant. Just as she was sure she could endure no more, that her body was shutting down, the pain stopped. Heaving large gasps of air, her limbs continued twitching as she opened her eyes to see dark eyes glaring back at her.

Then, she was asked once more how she got into the Lestrange vault. Tears streamed down her dirty face as she shook her head at the ceiling. What was this mad woman talking about? No one could steal from Gringotts, and certainly not after Quirell had attempted to steal the Philosopher's Stone from Dumbledore's vault a few years prior. No one. Yet, here Bellatrix was positive that she, a mere teenager, could bypass goblin security and take a precious heirloom from her vault. Was she asking what _else_ she took? Hermione stopped listening to the mad witch's ranting but was brought back by another Crucio.

Her screams echoed in the large hall once more.

After a time the curse was lifted once more but before she could recover, Bellatrix crouched down and had Hermione's left arm stretched out in an unrelenting grip. A sharp glint of a blade caught her eye. Panic crept into petite teen and she began to sob as she felt the first pierce of what was certainly a cursed blade mark her soft inner forearm. "What else did you take from my vault, you filthy Mudblood?" Bellatrix dug her knife deeper into her wound.

"I didn't take anything!" Hermione sobbed, her free arm gripping the priceless Persian rug beneath her tightly. Bellatrix continued her work, making sure each cut was as deep and painful as possible. "Tell me! I will kill you, you disgusting bitch, and then I will kill your friends! WHAT ELSE DID YOU TAKE!" she shrieked, losing her temper. Hermione pounded her free right arm to the ground over and over, the pain was blinding. "I DIDN'T TAKE ANYTHING!" she repeated with sobbing breaths, trying to make the pain stop; anything to make it stop!

Finally, it did stop. Suddenly, Bellatrix flew away from her and stood up to look in shock at a tiny elf swinging on her sister's prized chandelier. "What the hell…" Lucius murmured, looking puzzled before the elf snapped its fingers and the light fixture plunged to the ground below, forcing Bellatrix to move quickly away from Hermione. "What are you trying to do, you stupid elf?! You could have killed me!" she shouted indignantly to the smirking elf. Hermione almost smiled in relief to recognize Dobby. They would be safe now.

"Dobby didn't mean to kill! Never kill…just seriously maim or injure," the cheeky elf jumped down to the floor and snapped his fingers once more. Harry and Ron ran up the stairs from the dungeons to see Narcissa's and Bellatrix's wands fly into Dobby's awaiting hand. Hermione couldn't move a muscle to go to her boys but they were coming towards her. They would help her escape this evil place and they could regroup. Just a little closer….

However, her relief turned to disbelief as she saw Dobby suddenly grab the two young wizards mid-run and disappear before they could get to her, Bellatrix throwing the cursed knife in their direction. The knife disappeared with them, and Hermione closed her eyes in sorrow, knowing it had hit its target. She couldn't even be bothered to try and stop the trail of tears following the familiar path down her cheeks. She had failed to keep them safe and now all was lost. What good were all the years of studying and sacrifices to try and help her best friends when she couldn't even help them stay alive long enough to complete Harry's destiny?

She felt herself being hauled to her feet and she swayed. Her scarlet blood dripped down her arm, she felt the rivulets flow down her fingers to the puddle beneath it. A rather large puddle, in fact. The brunettes' knees buckled and her eyes rolled back into her head. Blood loss was a bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

Haeres Genitus: The Begotten Heir

Chapter Two: You're Not Planning on Dying Anytime Soon, Right?

When she woke up, Hermione was unsurprised to find herself slumped on a cold stone floor. She blinked at the dimly lit dungeon, trying to adjust her eyesight and gather her surroundings. "Ah, she awakes," she heard a voice drawl drily somewhere to her near left. Wincing as she attempted to lift herself into a sitting position, Hermione noticed her injured arm had been bandaged. Rather poorly bandaged, actually, but bandaged none the less. "Hello?" she called out softly, turning to the direction of the speaker. Finally, she spotted a tall figure sitting on the ground a few feet from her against the wall, looking almost at ease in his position.

Draco Malfoy smirked at her, entertained by her owlish blinking. He had long ago adjusted to the darkness. Stretching out his legs, he stood to walk to her, frowning at her arm. The blood continued to seep through his makeshift bandage he had torn from his own shirt. Bloody cursed knives. "Malfoy?" he heard her ask breathlessly but he detected a small note of fear. He held up his hands in a disarming manner.

"Relax, Granger, I come in peace. After all, it's not every day you get to be in the company of Gryffindor's unofficial princess," he chuckled, watching her face turn from wary to confused. He took the opportunity to kneel down next to her and sighed as she tried to scoot back from him. "I just want to check your arm, really, I swear I'll try and leave your virtue intact," he smirked at her indignation before she huffily thrust her left arm under his nose.

"There's a good girl."

After a moment's silence, she couldn't help it. "Why are you being _nice_ to me? I'm the scum of the Earth, sullying your presence with my Mudblood germs or whatnot," she gritted as the fresh wound was exposed to air. She jerked her arm back when she was what was there.

_MUDBLOOD_

The bloody bitch had maimed her arm in large, childish print with a racial slur that was sure to scar nastily. She let a small sob escape her lips before clamping down. She couldn't let Malfoy see her cry over his favorite word etched forever into her arm. Hell, he probably thought it was rather funny she was branded like this. She saw no humor in his eyes, however, when she looked up. In fact, he looked rather sad for her.

"I can't get the bleeding to stop for too long. The knife she used was cursed…I'm sure it will eventually stop but not for a few days at least," he murmured, before grabbing the edge of his large shirt and began tearing another piece of it off into a strip. The amber eyed witch watched silently as he clumsily wrapped the new fabric tightly before tying a knot at the end. Well, she supposed he wasn't exactly used to bandaging up other people. Still, it was a decent job and for that, she was grateful.

"I'm sorry, you know," Hermione heard him say softly as he let her arm drop back to her gently, eyeing her for her reaction. "Sorry for what? Sorry I'm stuck in your glorious manor getting tortured to near death?" she asked unkindly, seeing him flinch. "Yeah, that, and the whole treating you like shit thing…Getting stuck in the dungeon of your own 'glorious manor' for months on end has a way of making you realize what an asshole you are. Get a lot of thinking time, you know?" he sighed, and gestured to the utter emptiness surrounding them. She nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you are kind of an asshole. Huge, actually. Congratulations on your self revelation, prat," the witch snorted primly. Really, took him long enough.

Draco surprised her with a bark of laughter. "I never thought I would see the day when Hermione Granger was congratulating me on being a repentant asshole." She couldn't help the small twitch of a smile on her lips. "I guess stranger things have happened….have you really been here months by yourself?" she asked, curious at how he ended up on the wrong side of the cellar door. He shrugged. "After I failed to kill Dumbledore like I was ordered to, Snape fled with me back here. Unfortunately for us, the Dark Lord was less than thrilled. Snape was still useful to him….I was not. So, to teach me a lesson in obedience, I was locked in here…and I was pretty sure they had thrown away the key but than others started coming in here too. There were prisoners that the Snatchers had captured or people who had to be reminded of who was _really_ in charge. When you got here, Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood had been here for a few weeks. Ollivander, the wand maker, was here as well for about a month. Oh, and the goblin," he waved his hand dismissively at the thought of Griphook.

Hermione digested the information. Months. Malfoy had been down here for almost 11 months! "Merlin," she breathed out, overwhelmed with the thought she could be here for an indefinite amount of time. Suddenly, she felt pity for the young man in front of her. Asshole or not, he didn't deserve to be locked in a dingy dungeon for a freaking YEAR. "So now that we're best friends, any chance you can use that legendary brain of yours to get us out of here?" the blonde joked, hating the pity in her eyes, brief as it was.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Figures he would be nice to her to save his own ass. She adjusted herself to try and stand. Might as well get acquainted with her new home away from home. He stood quickly to help steady her, his hand cool to the touch on her elbow. "I think I'll live, Malfoy," she said smartly, using the wall to balance herself. Her eyes had adjusted rather well to the dimly lit surroundings, all her time in the Hogwarts library had prepared her for terrible lighting and squinting. "You don't plan on dying anytime soon, right?" he snorted, giving her the space she clearly wanted. "That's right," she shot back, walking along the wall and rounding a corner.

"Wouldn't want my new best friend dying on the first day, that's no fun. Haven't even had a chance to feel you up yet," he smirked at her stiffening back. _Oh, this is going to be so much better than when Thomas and Looney were here…._

_GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG_

She had allowed him to continue talking to her as he followed her around the cellar he no doubt could navigate with his eyes closed. Allowing him her company seemed like a small price to pay for her bandaged arm and, if she were honest, she felt badly he had been alone in here for the better half of a year. Hell, he was probably accustomed to talking to himself rather than face utter loneliness in the dark, forgotten by your own family. So, Hermione allowed him to prattle on about the mundane goings on of what had happened when her friends Luna and Dean were here. He talked of Luna's father disobeying Voldermort and printing positive pieces about Harry Potter in the Quibbler, which is how Luna had come to be prisoner in the dungeon. Dean was captured by Snatchers for running from the Muggleborn Registration. He was only kept at the Manor because he was a known associate of Dumbledore's Army and friend of Harry Potter.

After scouring the dungeon, which was pointless since she was positive Malfoy would have been doing the same for months, the bushy haired witch slumped back down onto the floor in defeat. "You're the heir to this bloody place, isn't there anything you can do?" she asked, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. Draco snorted. '_Silly bint, does she really think I would be here for my own entertainment? How thick does she think I am?' he thought, shaking his head. _ "Seriously, do you think I'm touched in the head, Granger?" he asked aloud, slightly insulted. Hermione had the decency to lower her head in embarrassment. It really was an idiotic question.

Sighing loudly for her benefit, he gestured grandly to their surroundings. "I am the Malfoy heir, by blood, true enough. My father, however, is its current master and his will supersedes my own. I can't even call for a fucking house elf because the master does not allow it. My mother can't do too much for me besides keep me alive for as long as she can. I know my time is closing, Granger. At least you can make it entertaining," he smirked at her confused expression.

Hermione was rather flabbergasted. Here was the boy who in third year cried piteously when Buckbeak nipped his arm and wrung every last tear he could to get his way. The same child who Harry had caught sniveling in the haunted girl's loo last year because of what Voldermort would do to him if he failed in killing the headmaster. Yet, here he was, speaking of his inevitable death as if asked how likely he thought it was Slytherin would win the House Cup!

"How can you be so calm about dying? Not exactly a Slytherin trait let alone, a Draco Malfoy trait…." She trailed off, eyeing his seemingly easy shrug. "What can I say? I've had eleven months to come to terms with it. Even if Potter manages to actually kill the Dark Lord, what do you think awaits me? I let Death Eaters into a school full of children. I attempted to assassinate Dumbledore on several occasions and cursed innocent people doing so. Snape casting the spell that ended his life means nothing, I was the one who disarmed him and left him defenseless. It'll be a life sentence to Azkaban in the best case scenario. Personally, I would prefer the Kiss at that point. It's over for me, Granger." He finished quietly.

Hermione couldn't argue any of these points. He was correct on every level. He was Draco Malfoy, dead man walking. It was rather sad, really. Shutting her coffee colored eyes, she leaned her head against the slightly damp wall behind her. "Don't you go getting all SPEW on me now, Granger," his voice suddenly cut through her ears. Without missing a beat, she replied, "It's S.P.E.W. you inbred pillock."

She could practically feel the grin he shot her.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM


End file.
